


Thranduil Needs a Glass of Wine

by theycallmeDernhelm (onyourleft084)



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: In which nothing turns out the way the elf-king wants it to, Other, The Desolation of Smaug - Freeform, Thranduil's POV, Ugh dwarves, a hint of Barduil mwahahaha, and a GoT references for the Thronies, battle of the five armies, internal Thranduil dialogue, lots of elvish sass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 14:14:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3252788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onyourleft084/pseuds/theycallmeDernhelm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The events of the last two Hobbit films as experienced by everybody's favorite sassy wine-loving elf-king. Starts funny, ends on a note of nostalgia. Hints of Barduil, but not enough to make an M/M category.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thranduil Needs a Glass of Wine

Thranduil really needed a glass of wine right now.

It had all started when those damned dwarves ended up in his territory. He'd been sitting on his throne, minding his own business, when Legolas and Tauriel came dragging in some new prisoners, the way they'd bring home wounded animals or pretty flowers when they were kids. Annoying as that had always been, Thranduil would have reeeeeaaaaallly preferred a skunk with a broken leg to what his son had found now. It had been seven centuries, and he was _not_ in the mood for intruders.

Especially not dwarves.

Then one of them turned out to be Thorin Oakenshield, King Thror's grandson, and he had a lot of sass. Thranduil did not approve of this sass ( _only I can have that much sass!_ ) and he imprisoned them. Then a halfling stole the keys from his guard and snuck into his winery ( _my winery, of all the insulting crimes._ ) Then they escaped. Then he sent Legolas and Tauriel after them, and the pair encountered Orcs trying to kill the Dwarves-- seriously, since when did Dwarves get so important? Then Legolas had gotten wounded (and at this point Thranduil started to think he would need a whole bottle, not just a glass.)

Then a captured Orc all but revealed that the Necromancer would rise to power again; and right about this point Thranduil decided he was one hundred percent done with this drama. This was the _last_ thing he needed.

Did he attempt damage control? Of course he did, by ordering a complete lockdown on the kingdom-- only to find out that Tauriel, followed by his _son_ , had gone to help the dwarves.

That was the bit where Thranduil had sat on his throne, wineglass in hand, wondering idly where and if he had gone wrong as a parent.

Then the halfling woke the dragon-- the dragon that was sitting pretty on hundreds of years' worth of dwarfish (and elvish, and human) treasure, the dragon that _Thranduil had tried so hard not to bother all these centuries._

And the dragon seriously messed up the people of Lake-town.

Then somebody from Lake-town named Bard killed the dragon. Good, thought Thranduil, that's not my problem anymore. You know what his problem was? That's right. _Tauriel._ Endangering his son, disobeying his orders, and falling for a _dwarf_. Children these days. So what's an elf-king to do? Exile her, of course. Great. She got the memo, but that didn't stop Legolas from following her-- again. For the second time.

Fine, the king thought, be that way. I've got bigger fish to fry.

Next on the king's agenda-- get into the Lonely Mountain and reclaim the white gems that King Thror had withheld from the elves all these years. Okay, so the dwarves were guarding the hoard fiercely, but there were thirteen of them-- and Thranduil had a whole army of elves ready to march in there. They were totally going to steamroller those dwarves if it came to that; and Thranduil was wiling to bet his entire winery that it _was_ going to come to it.

Oh, and then there was Bard. Dear, sweet, naive Bowman Bard. Thranduil figured he wasn't a bad ally to have; hey, in these circumstances, you take what you get, and a good deal of that dragon treasure belonged to Bard's people anyhow.

Dear sweet Bowman Bard, in his naïveté, rode all the way to the mountain to talk it out with Thorin. Share? he asked, but Thorin said, No.

You had to give the mortal credit; he did his best to reason with Thorin. But Thranduil knew it wouldn't work from the beginning. That was why he was not so reluctant to attack the dwarves. If Thorin wasn't going to give it up, Thranduil would take it by force. Force was what Dwarves understood.

All right, force and _maybe_ negotiation, if something truly valuable was at stake. Just as the elf-king was sharing his wine with Bard ( _that mortal should really consider himself lucky_ ) and just as the wizard Gandalf was trying to convince him to 'stop this madness' or something to that extent ( _stay out of my business, Mithrandir)_ the halfling _(_ yes, the same halfling who stole his keys) turned up with the ancient Arkenstone of Thror. Thranduil was almost completely willing to trade the damned thing in for whatever the king under the mountain owed his people.

It did not work out; Thorin was too selfish. Oh, Bard was crushed.

Told you so, Thranduil said, rolling his eyes.

Things escalated when Thorin brought backup.

Then things REALLY got bad when the Orcs came over to join the party.

 _I did not plan ANY of this,_ the Elven king furiously thought as he freed Orc heads from their shoulders. It's surprising how out-of-control things can get outside of your own kingdom. He'd almost forgotten when other races looked like, what it felt like to have Orc flesh give way beneath your blade.

Halfway through the fight, Thranduil was beginning to lose interest in those gems in the mountain. All he wanted was to get out of this alive. And never be bothered ever again. And have a glass of wine. And have his son by his side. _Nothing else matters._

Thankfully, when it was all over and the orcs were defeated, he discovered that Legolas had made it out alive. Kids! He thought, with a sort of angry relief, they just love giving you almost-heart attacks, don't they?

But the prince did not stay. He chose to go, and probably never come back.

 _Is it my fault?_ The king couldn't help but think to himself. No, no it wasn't. Legolas was a grown-up elf who could take care of himself and make his own decisions, and if those decisions meant leaving his father, Thranduil was going to let him go. 

That's what you do if you really love someone.

You let them go. But you hold on to their memory. It was a lesson every generation learned, and Tauriel-- young, vulnerable Tauriel-- was learning it as she wept over the body of the dead dwarf she had loved.

Thranduil would never for the life of him understand it, but he gave her peace, and he let her come back home. Maybe that would make up for some things, like an absent son. Maybe.

The Elves and the people of Lake-Town celebrated that night, with singing and cheer of their victory and the death of the dragon. Thranduil did not join in the festivities until much later, when he decided it was his duty to make an appearance. And perhaps get to know Bard a little better; the mortal was growing on him.

But for a long time before then, Thranduil sat in the empty throne room, passing the newly-recovered necklace of white gems between his hands, admiring their glint in the dim light.

His late wife, his Queen, he thought, would have looked very beautiful wearing that necklace.

 

The memories of centuries past threatened to take the Elf-king over and drag him under.

 

 

 

 

Another glass of wine, then.


End file.
